Hallowed
by MinaSeraphina
Summary: My version of the events that took place during the time Harry and Hermione were on their own in 'Deathly Hallows'. Short! Sweet! Smutty! AU, Epilogue non compliant. Harry/Hermione! COMPLETE


_I've been reading Deathly Hallows to my son and like so many before me this one shot just popped up into my head. You can insert this little piece of fiction into anyplace you see fit from the point after Ron left Harry and Hermione in the forest and then forget that travesty of an epilogue ever happened._

_Just an excuse to write Harry/Hermione smut really…cause you know what, I really really hate Ron and Hermione together in the canon storyline, the pair together grosses me out. _

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything about the world of Harry Potter. If I did, Hermione would be super pissed that I like to see her passed around like gravy at Thanksgiving dinner... to Severus, then Draco, then Harry, then Sirius… lol._

_Note: I have reworked this fic to make it a bit more angsty (because I love me some angsty Harry!) than the original. Read it again if you have already, it is a bit different!_

_If ya'll don't like… don't flippin' read!_

--

She'd been crying for hours.

He had very little experience with crying. Even in his childhood. He was mistreated miserably by the Dursleys. He was neglected to the point of starvation sometimes, not shown one ounce of affection or attention, unless it was negative, and was screamed at for things he did not do or could not prevent.

But through all his horrid experiences living with his extended family he couldn't remember crying. He'd seen Dudley 'cry', sure, but that was all mainly for the benefit of convincing his mother or father of something horrible Harry had done. All simply for the pleasure of watching Harry get yelled at or locked in his room. In any case, that had been tearless blubbering and whining more than anything.

Cho had sobbed at him a number of times and it was no less annoying, yet it was somehow different. Maybe because he did not know Cho was well as Hermione, or maybe because the involvement was different. Either way, he couldn't identify why it was different this time.

The level of crying that Hermione had reached - face down on her bunk, her whole body shaking violently, gasps and whimpers coming from her mouth in stuttered intervals, and her whole face positively red and swollen from the effort it took the tears to squeeze out from under her lids in torrents - was nothing short of alarming.

He had no words of comfort for her and really, for some reason seemingly unknown to him, he did not _want_ to offer her comfort. How could he comfort her when he had none for himself? His own dismay and anger at Ron was so consuming, that he simply chose to ignore her.

This ploy had worked for a while.

A very short while.

To speak truthfully, after the first hour it had really started to get on his nerves.

His mind was in an unstable state, swirling with anger at Ron, at their situation, at the fact that he had absolutely no idea where they were supposed to be looking for Horcruxes, at Dumbledore for not telling him more of what was expected of him before he died, and mostly, at himself for having lead his best friends into pointless danger and desolation. It was becoming too much for Harry to handle and the added stress of Hermione's sorrow had over stimulated him fit to burst.

And burst he did.

In the space of a breath, without knowing how, Harry found himself on his feet and stalking over to Hermione's bed. She must not have heard his heavy footfalls as he made long strides towards her over the volume of her sobbing because she squealed with surprise when he grabbed her by her shoulders and yanked her to her feet.

She hadn't a chance to find her voice before Harry was yelling in her face and shaking her roughly.

"Stop it, Hermione! Stop your fucking crying!" he raged. "Yes, he's gone! And what difference does it make?! It's not like he was doing anything to help us anyway! Just shut the bloody hell up! I cannot even hear myself thinking with all your whining and sniveling! If you want to be with him that badly then go! Go! I don't need either of you! I didn't ask you to come along! You just invited yourself, as usual! I am so sodding sick of feeling like this is all my fault! That the two of you blame me for putting us all in danger, that you blame me for not having anymore to tell you than I already have! Dumbledore told me nothing else, nothing, Hermione!"

He spat all this out hatefully, and at the bit involving Ron, with jealousy. Something angry, a disgusting monster, uncoiling slowly inside him told him that _he _should be the one with Hermione's loyalty, not Ron.

He was barely aware of the tight grip he had maintained on her upper arms throughout his tirade until, when he paused for breath fully intent on yelling some more, he heard her tiny whimper of pain.

The fog of rage instantly lifted from his brain and Harry stared down at her, bewildered.

Her tears had stopped falling and she did not recoil from his grasp, nor did she speak. The only visible signs of her fear were the slight tremble of her lower lip and her avoidant gaze as she stared at the floor.

Harry pushed her away from so that her knees buckled and she sat on the bed, where she did not move or speak. She just stared at him and he was very aware of her gaze burning square in the middle of his chest.

Turning away from her, Harry ran his fingers through his hair and exhaled hard.

That selectively dormant connection between he and Voldemort flared any time Voldemort felt strong emotion. He would have liked to blame this instance on He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named but he'd know it was not true. He had acted freely of his own will. It was his own rage that boiled and thrummed through his body. It was his own anger and pain that spurned him on to treat one of his best friends so abysmally. Harry found he had difficulty digesting this painful truth, realizing that he was capable of negative emotion as strong as those felt by Voldemort himself.

Hermione continued to sit, not moving or speaking, just following him with her eyes as Harry stalked around the tent like a caged and abused animal.

Harry stopped in front of her and looked down into her tear streaked face. Her reddened cheeks, her eyes still sparkling from extra moisture, and her hair tousled around her face. Her breathing had not fully evened out, her chest heaved with breaths that were coming in quick, short pants from between her bite-swollen lips.

Harry sat down next to her on the bed. Hermione did not flinch or get up, though he would hardly blame her if she had.

"Harry," she said tentatively, taking his hand in hers and offering him a warm and understanding gaze.

But he did not react kindly to her attempts. The kindness in her voice and gentleness of her touch only made him feel guilty and more angry. He snatched his hand out of her grasp without looking at her.

"Don't," he hissed.

Tears filled Hermione's eyes again, "But, Harry, I-"

"Leave it be," he snarled, "I don't need to hear how you forgive me and how you don't blame me- just… save it."

He stood from the bed and began to walk away from her but Hermione had come to his side in a flash.

"Hermione-" he started warningly as she grabbed a hold of his hand and pulled him back.

But instead of being subject to a lecture or more of her tears, Harry found himself with his arms full of Hermione.

"Oof!" he grunted as she lunged at him, "Hermione, what are-"

And then something broke between them. Harry got one close up view of the glittering tracks the tears had made down Hermione's flushed cheeks and the dark pink of her upturned lips before she surprised him with the press of those warm, pink lips against his own.

Without hesitation, Harry's arms went around Hermione and he slanted his face to hers as she wrapped her arms more tightly around his neck, pulling her body flush with his and standing on her toes to improve her reach. The force with which the pair were closed around each other was not only an evidence of strength on his or her parts but of another ethereal, magical force that pulled them like a magnet towards each other.

The shock of her unexpected behavior still had yet to register in Harry's mind, he was guided and responding with feeling rather than thought, it felt incredibly good not to think. Almost as good as the feel of the small, female body in his arms. To his further shock, Hermione suddenly opened her lips beneath his, rubbing them delightfully against his and he attacked with a ferocity he did not know he possessed.

He groaned deep in his chest and one of his strong arms moved her up her back, wrapping around her ribcage and the other to her head, where his hand fisted itself into her long, curly hair pulling in order to angle her head up to him.

Harry could not suppress the next groan any better than the first as Hermione responded to his kiss enthusiastically, her tongue darting into his mouth to smooth over the surfaces of his teeth and tongue before allowing him to do the same to her.

They were both breathing fast and heavily through their noses, hot panting scorching each other's cheeks and hands wandering over each other's bodies. Hermione's had moved from their clasp about his neck to clutch at Harry's broad shoulders and trail down his neck to his chest and flat, muscled stomach. Harry's hands were similarly occupied, the hand that had been grasping her hair, had moved to the side of her throat, where he rubbed his thumb over the long, pale column and his fingers squeezed the back of her neck. The other had worked its way under the hem of her jumper, smoothing up her heated skin, inching towards her breast. His appreciation for her ministrations was swelling quickly between them and it was with an enormous amount of restraint that Harry was able to refrain from grinding up against her like a dog trying to scratch an itch. Though his predicament did not go without notice.

When Hermione finally pulled away, Harry immediately started to apologize.

"Hermione, I-"

But she shook her head slightly and took his hand, "No, don't! I… I w-wanted to…"

She said this very softly and with a slightly trembling voice.

Harry was gobsmacked, blood was pounding so loudly in his ears he wondered briefly if he had heard her incorrectly. In a trance like state he followed as she pulled him with her towards the bed. She sat back down on her bunk and kicked off her shoes and scooted over to the far side, motioning him to join her.

He hesitated.

He did not comprehend what she meant by this. She admitted that she had wanted to kiss him but what did this signal mean? Harry was not sure if he should ask or just allow whatever this was to play out. What he did know was that if she continued to be as inviting as she presently was being that he could not risk her changing her mind. He felt exposed and raw emotion was flooding him. Emotion he had not, until the moment her lips touched his, realized that he had been repressing.

Resolving that he could not explore the meaning of this any further without taking a risk, he kicked off his own shoes and sat down next to her.

When he was by her side, Hermione reclined against the pillows on the bed and reached out for his right arm which she pulled at and placed on the smooth skin of her stomach that was bared beneath the hem of her bunched up jumper.

The gesture was not lost on him and he moved to lay on his side, propped up on his left arm, his right hand tracing lightly over her stomach, causing her to shiver and close her eyes before moving up to her face where he smoothed her curls from her face and trace over her features delicately as he hovered slightly over her.

Now that his senses were returning, Harry could not believe what was happening. If he had been more naïve he might not have recognized that a moment as intimate as this was quickly becoming was a prelude to something else. He was therefore grateful that he was not innocent to these types of moments and so felt a bit more sure of himself and what it was Hermione was expecting of him.

His eyes studied her closely and his heart thumped painfully against his ribcage. There was no doubt, he wanted this moment.

Badly.

He wanted it more than he wanted to find the Horcruxes, more than he wanted to Ron to return, more than just this time, he'd wanted it before now and he would want it after now…

Hermione's eyes fluttered closed and her breathing, which had evened out, began to quicken again. Harry's index finger had traced her eyebrows, down her cheekbones, and over her swollen, red lips and was now traveling down her throat. Flush had stained her cheeks and the V of skin visible through her shirt bright pink. He dropped feather light kisses over the places he traced and took an earlobe into his mouth, nuzzling his face in the crook of her neck and breathing in the fresh scent of her hair.

His right hand lifted the hem of her shirt and traced her bellybutton, inching back up her ribcage. Hermione wound one arm around his waist the other flung around his neck. She was whimpering slightly and shaking a bit under his touch. He was struck with the thought that it was rather extreme, her reactions to the simplest of touches, when another thought suddenly occurred to him.

"Hermione, have you ever-?" he asked against her throat, as he nipped the skin there lightly.

_Surely, she could not be- and yet.._.

He lifted his head and watched the movement of her throat as she swallowed hard and was further bewildered when she shook her head.

She must have been anticipating his next move because when his hands snapped back from her and he tried to sit up, her arms locked around his torso and with strength he didn't expect she possessed and held him in his position at her side.

_Bloody freaking hell. How was this possible? _

"Hermione-"

"Harry, don't. Please…" she said softly, "I want this."

He shook his head vehemently and tried unsuccessfully to pull her off of him, "You're just upset, Hermione. You don't want this. Ron would-"

She hissed through her teeth and scowled, "No! This isn't about Ron! Yes, I am upset that he left but…it's not just that. It's everything... all at once and..." She looked up at him with wide, bright eyes, "I'm scared..." She grasped either side of Harry's face and forced him to look at her, "Harry, I want this. I want _you_. Please, Harry, I want you so much." She blushed and downcast her eyes at her own forwardness and prayed he wouldn't refuse her.

The ghost of a feeling that had risen in his chest whenever he thought of Ginny could have been something for a lifetime ago compared with the rush of overpowering emotion that overtook him as Hermione uttered those words. He felt lightheaded at Hermione's proclamation, and indescribably protective of her in this moment, and the powerful emotion he could not identify pulsed through his entire body and warmed him.

Hermione. His best friend of six and a half years. His sweet little Hermione was offering her body to him, for no other reason than she wanted him.

_She _wanted _him._

She _wanted _him.

Almost immediately though, his feelings of elation, wonder, and bursting lust were tempered with his dominate need for self-preservation.

"Hermione," he ground out serious seriously, looking down into her soft chocolate brown eyes and examining any untruth there, "Do you really? Please.... think about what this means before you speak."

She paused but only very briefly before she nodded and smiled slightly.

The heat rose another degree or two in the air around them, "If we do this- it will change things… forever."

"I know," she whispered and pulled his face down to hers in a long, lingering kiss. Their lips touching softly and rubbing together slightly. The unidentifiable emotion rose in waves within him, simultaneously calming and arousing him.

Harry moaned into Hermione's mouth and, without really meaning to move so fast especially now knowing she was untouched, started pushing her jumper hem up her smooth, slightly rounded stomach. Hermione, however, did not seem to mind in the slightest. She sat up enough for him to pull the garment over her head.

Harry gazed down at the newly exposed flesh of the woman lying at his mercy.

At about fourteen years old, Hermione had first began to fill out. She was never rail thin, always with a bit of baby fat and quite short besides. She had slimmed out since then but had not topped out over 161 centimeters and her curves were full and in his opinion, so very delicious.

His cock twitched as he regarded her.

Appreciation for his female best friend's body as they reached fifth year were thoughts he barely let enter his head, slightly paranoid someone (most of all Ron) might catch on and in even more denial that he could see Hermione as someone other than his nearly genderless best friend.

Knowing her intent and having her permission, Harry now felt free to have his eyeful of her lush, rounded breasts, the slope of her waist that lead to full, flared hips and the nicest arse he had ever covertly ogled.

Hermione wore a plain, lacy white bra but somehow it was perfect for this occasion and it made his blood race even faster to the place it really wanted to be at the moment. He wondered if she was a panties-match-the-bra type girl and shivered involuntarily when he remembered he was about to find out.

Virginal she was, but Hermione was not ignorant or the sex act, and even less of her own feelings regarding Harry. She did not want to play the passive, non-participatory part of the typical virgin in this experience. She wanted to make it worth Harry's while as well as her own. She reached for the hem of Harry's shirt and encouraged him to pull it over his head. From her half sitting position she started to reach back around herself to unclasp her bra but Harry stopped her.

"Let me," he said softly.

She flushed and nodded.

Harry sat up and back onto his heels, pulling Hermione to sit facing him, her legs spread out on either side of him.

He leaned towards her and captured her lips in a soft and explorative kiss, caressing her hair and face with one hand, the other moving around her back and unsnapping the bra deftly.

Hermione felt the tension of the bra give and fall away from her body and removed her hands from Harry's shoulders so she could slip it off and fling it across the tent.

Hermione shivered and gasped when Harry's hands came up to cup her naked breasts.

"Okay, Mione?" he asked with a hint of amusement, his thumbs brushing over her hardening nipples.

She smiled a little and nodded, her eyes closed, "Yes, just don't stop... doing that…"

He smiled widely and pushed her to lay on her back, "Believe me, I don't plan on it."

Hermione giggled and shivered again as Harry continued to fondle her and kiss her neck, now on his knees and hovering over her. He then moved his hands from her breasts down to her jean clad legs, where he spread her knees apart and hooked her legs over his narrow hips. She instinctively rest her bare feet on his calves and allowed him to move up between her thighs.

Even through the thick denim material Hermione could feel the heat and hardness of Harry pressed against her and moaned out loud as his weight settled over her.

Hot skin on hot skin and the feel of his arousal trapped between them was an overwhelming and delicious sensation. Realizing she voiced her pleasure out loud, Hermione clapped a hand to her mouth and blushed.

Harry shook his head and pulled her hand away from her mouth, "Don't be embarrassed about making noise, love. I want to hear how I make you feel."

Hermione blushed at the endearment and nodded, a strangled gasp escaping her throat as Harry suddenly pressed his pelvis against hers.

He grinned at her, "Good?"

She panted and nodded.

He grinned wider and lowered his face to her bare breasts.

Hermione bucked under him at the touch of his hot tongue to her right nipple.

"Oooh," she whimpered, her hands coming up to tangle in Harry's thick raven hair and her legs locking around his waist.

Encouraged by her sounds, Harry pulled the hardened nipple into his mouth and gave it an experimental suck.

"Harry!" Hermione gasped, tightening her body around his.

He smirked against her breast as he then proceeded to lick, suck, nip, and kiss the perfect white globes in turn. His hands trailing up and down her sides and over her stomach, and across her back, feeling every inch of smooth, hot skin that he could presently touch.

It took only a few minutes to have Hermione a panting, moaning, and back arching mess under him. He restrained himself with some difficulty when she first began to thrust her pelvis up against his, seeking some relief from the growing tension in her nether region.

Harry pulled back and plucked at the now red and diamond hard nipples riding atop her milky white breasts.

Hermione snickered breathlessly and gasped at Harry's playfulness, "Harry Potter, I believe that you are a tease."

He scoffed, rocked his pelvis against her and smirked ferally when she moaned, "A tease?"

She nodded, her eyes closed and her hands threading through her hair.

"Well, let's see if we can dispel that highly idea rumor," he said, tracing a finger from her throat, to between her breasts, dipping into her bellybutton and stopping at the fly of her denim trousers.

Hermione drew in a harsh breath and Harry stopped.

"What's wrong, Mione?"

"I'm just- I'm nervous," she admitted.

Harry nodded and dropped back down over her, kissing her eyelids, cheeks, nose, and lips, stroking her hair away from her face.

"Don't be nervous, love. I will take care of you, I promise," he whispered.

Her eyes filled with tears and Harry was momentarily alarmed until she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly.

"Oh Harry! I know you will, I trust you, I-" she broke off, but he seemed to understand the unspoken words.

He shushed her and kissed the tip of his nose. His mouth sought hers and she allowed his tongue entrance into her mouth, a deep rumbling in his chest transferring to her. While she was enjoying Harry's kisses he had managed to unbutton and unzip her pants and then moved on to his own belt and fly.

He rose to his knees to help her out of her pants. He got his first glimpse of the white lacy bikini panties and heat rose to cloud around his brain. Her smooth, white legs emerging from their confinement and light pink toenails revealed once the trousers were dropped over the side of the bed.

As he turned his attention to removing his own pants, Hermione examined his exposed body with fascination. Harry's chest was broad and well muscled from hard Quidditch training, his abdomen was flat and waist tapered, a long dark trail of hair began at his bellybutton and disappeared underneath the navy boxer shorts that had just come into view as his pants joined hers on the floor.

Her eyes followed the enticing trail of hair and she let out a little whimper of anticipation at the sight of his tented shorts.

"See something you like, love?" he asked with amusement.

Hermione smiled up at him and then reclined against the pillows, stretching herself out before him, delighting in the darkening of his emerald eyes as he looked down at her.

"Maybe," she replied coyly, her long hair curling over her breasts invitingly.

Harry let out a small growl and pounced on her, bringing their bare flesh in even more contact with each other.

Hermione's arms and legs went around him as he attacked her neck with his teeth and tongue. The tension between her legs growing more tightly coiled and pulsing impatiently as a rush of wetness pooled in between her nether lips, sliding together in sweet friction as Harry pushed against her. She trailed her hands down his front wanting to touch his skin and feel the soft trail of hair on his stomach.

"Oh, Hermione," Harry moaned against her skin, his hands smoothing up her calves to the backs of her thighs and gripping them tightly, "You're so- Mione… I need you."

Hermione gasped as he ground his hips insistently against her and moaned in frustration at the unfulfilled pressure that was building.

Sensing her anxiety Harry grasped the elastic waist of her panties and lifting off of her a little pulled them down her legs. He then rose to his knees once more and gave her heavily lidded eyes and flushed face a quick glance before removing his shorts.

The cool air of the tent on his hot skin made him shiver and Hermione's eyes widened at seeing him fully for the first time.

His erect cock, which was curved slightly upwards and heavily veined, was easily wider than any she had ever seen in books, though maybe she had been reading the wrong books, but she couldn't help but feel a little scared. She knew the first time would not be completely pleasant and the thought of Harry inside of her made her squirm and shake, more moisture gushing from her pussy as the image tempted and terrified her…

Harry, himself, couldn't help but feel a small swell of male pride. He was well aware of his best… qualities, but he also realized what she must thinking and resolved himself to make sure this experience was enjoyable for her.

"Lie back," he said softly.

Hermione did as he asked and lay back against the pillows, feeling utterly exposed and suddenly very self conscious but refused to let it show. Her body was quite nice, she knew. Maybe not to every man's taste but from the way Harry was looking at her, stroking his cock and panting, she knew he was not disappointed.

In fact, Harry was the polar opposite of disappointed. Upon looking at her fully naked body Harry felt absolutely feral. She was so exquisite, so beautiful, untouched, and all his. Harry Potter came with his share of personal demons and, to the cost of the girls he had bedded since he lost his virginity in fifth year, the demons often were unleashed upon his partners in the heat of the moment.

He would never intentionally bring harm to any of them, least of all to sweet, sweet Hermione. But what happened from this point on was for the explicit purpose of providing and seeking pleasure, though the first time he would do his out most best to reign in his often times uncontrollable lust. Hermione must have known this about him already though or he doubted she, being a virgin, would have offered herself to him so readily. He was fairly certain Ginny shared with Hermione many of the more sordid details of what Harry Potter was like in the sack. Or else Parvati as they were dorm mates and Parvati had a big mouth… certainly Cho had not spoken to Hermione about such intimate things…

Whomever had potentially spoken to Hermione about it, he couldn't help but wonder if she felt jealous. As jealous as he felt when it was he had believed it was Ron who held her attention.

"Harry," Hermione's moan brought him back to the present and his breath hitched in his throat.

Hermione was looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes and was pulling and clutching at her long hair, she was anxious for relief and he knew he could not deny her any longer.

He settled himself back on her lush body, her legs bending instinctively to accept him into the cradle of her thighs.

Harry groaned at the contact of his groin nestled against her and she whimpered and dug her nails slightly into his shoulders.

He leaned forward and rubbed his nose against hers and brushed her lips with his.

"I've got you," he whispered reassuringly.

Hermione was momentarily distracted by his tender words and so was not fully prepared for the arch of Harry's back which pressed his dick into her opening and had her seated firmly on him in seconds.

A garbled cry died in her throat as Harry covered her lips with his.

She whimpered at the sting his entrance had caused, his lips still pressed tightly against hers. Her nails had dug firmly into his back and she felt hot moisture behind her eyelids. The pain gave an mighty throb that she felt clear down to her toes. He had not yet moved and she thought she would prefer it that way until the ache subsided.

Harry delved his tongue deeply into Hermione's mouth, trying to concentrate on the feeling of being firmly inside Hermione. She pulsed around him and he knew she must be experiencing a certain amount of pain so he fought to maintain control until she was ready for him to move.

"Oh bloody fucking hell!" Harry ground out when Hermione pulled away from the kiss to catch her breath. Still holding himself against her, gasping to control his breathing, he reached down between them and began to rub her clit with his thumb,"Mione, are you okay?"

Hot tears were trailing into Hermione's hair but she nodded and moaned when Harry touched her and moved the slightest bit.

She felt full and the ache and tension were growing tighter, she felt ready for him to move.

For his part, Harry could not comprehend that he had just taken Hermione Granger's virginity. He'd never had a virgin before and yet his instincts were there to guide him, to help him please his partner in kind for her gift. Hermione's inner walls encompassed him with a pulsing, slick heat that he did not wish to ever leave.

Hermione.

His best friend.

His love.

He wanted her.

He needed her.

After this he didn't not trust that he could ever let her go. Not for Ron. Not for Ginny. Voldemort be damned, no one would take her away from him after this. No one.

He dismissed his jumbled thoughts for the moment for Hermione had begun to shift beneath him. With a raw grunt he drew out of her very slowly, he looked between them and saw his cock emerge, coated in her wetness and a bit of her virginal blood.

Hermione moaned and wrapped her legs tighter around his waist ready to accept him again, her tears gone, and tension and fretfulness clearly written across her face. Her fingernails were back on his shoulders digging in deep, but he did not care. It felt just as wonderful as every other part of her felt and he relished it and would wear her marks like a badge of honour.

Harry, with great effort, slowly sank back into her welcoming depths. His cock pushing her walls apart and touching bottom.

She squealed "Harry!" and gripped him instinctively with her inner muscles.

"Oh fuck, Hermione," Harry gasped and came down upon her, pressing the full length of his body against her and cradling her in his arms, kissing her with fervor and fisting her hair n his hands.

He rocked against her and she began to push her pelvis back against him. The burning was still present as he pistoned in and out of her tight channel but it was tolerable and spurned her on to seek pleasure in Harry's arms.

"Talk to me, love, tell me how you feel," Harry gasped out as he brought their pelvises into contact again, sinking deep and pressing hard. He smoothed her hair back and kissed her forehead as he rocked into her.

"Harry, oooh, please!" she whimpered and whined, "Don't stop..."

Harry's heart soared and he happily obliged, withdrawing and pushing back in, harder and deeper than before.

She gasped again and shrieked his name, pressing kisses to his neck and chest, clawing at him with her fingernails.

He dropped his face to her breasts and began to kiss and suckle her. He continued his steady rhythm, his length disappearing into her liquid heat and his balls slapping up against her with each pump, he grunted and moaned her name.

Hermione could felt a tingling between her legs, a growing golden glow sparkling just out of her reach and she needed it like she never needed anything before. The pain was being overridden by those tendrils of pleasure licking at her like flame. Heat was rising in her cheeks and so far into her brain she was afraid she might pass out from pleasure.

"Harry! Oh! I need to c-come. Please, make me come!" she cried with abandon, not feeling the least bit ashamed at her own insistence. She clutched at his buttocks, trying to force him deeper as her words caused him to speed up the force of his thrusts and bite down hard on the side of her neck as he came back up to her.

Harry kissed her firmly, pulling and biting at her bottom lip. Grasping her bum in his hands, he held her in place as he thrust long, deep, and hard.

"Oh, Mione," he growled softly into her ear, "Mmm, does that feel good?"

"Yes!" she squeaked, as he touched bottom again inside of her.

Harry held on to her tightly as he rolled on to his back. Hermione wobbled a bit at the abrupt change in position but found that she sank down on to him, sliding even further down his dick as she straddled him and she screamed at the absolute fullness of their connection. Her hands went to his chest as he helped her to move up and down, his head pressed back into the pillows as she rode him with an unpracticed, but completely, unbelievably pleasurable rhythm.

And as this position seemed to more conducive to helping her find that elusive pleasure she rode him in the best way she could. He was able to manipulate her clit expertly in this position, enjoying the keening and whimpering noises, before moments later her thighs began to shake uncontrollably and she slammed herself upon him, screaming his name and her short nails scrabbling on his chest, sure to leave marks.

The pulling and pulsing of her pussy was holding him deeply inside and Hermione was quickly losing momentum and she rode the waves of her orgasm. With a grunt and shaky effort, Harry rolled them back over and began to pound into her ruthlessly, moving her higher and higher up the bed as he fucked her.

_Mine, _he thought to himself, _My Hermione._

"Yes! I'm yours!" she cried, for he had spoken this proclamation out loud.

Harry arched his back and called her name as torrents of hot ejaculation streamed from his body and into Hermione, whose continuing orgasm, pulled him into her so deeply Harry thought, and rather hoped, he might disappear into her welcoming body.

Unable to stay upright any longer Harry collapsed against Hermione, panting, and his head spinning.

They stayed that way for many long moments, trying to catch their breath and holding each other tightly. Harry tried to roll of her but Hermione had wrapped her arms and legs around his tightly.

"Don't go," she whispered.

"I'm too heavy for you," he whispered back, kissing her lips gently.

"Stay, please?" she asked tentatively.

Harry kissed her fully, licking her lips and stroking the inside of her mouth.

He rolled them so they lay on their sides facing one another but remaining joined. He pulled the blanket that lay bunched behind her over them and relaxed into her warmth, pushing her hair off her forehead and dropping soft kisses there.

Hermione sighed in contentment and snuggled against him. After a few quiet moments she spoke:

"Did you mean that?"

Harry had begun to drift off but he opened his eyes to look at her in the moonlight now streaming into the tent.

"Hmm?"

"What you said… you know, did you mean it?" she dropped her eyes and blushed.

Harry kissed the top of her head and pulled her more tightly to him, "Mine, Hermione. Yes, you are."

And the pair drifted to sleep, content in the knowledge that even though they still faced many unnamed horrors and after that many more obstacles to a fulfilled life, they were certain of one thing... they were certain of each other.

Finis

--

_Cheesy? Corny? Maybe but bugger it, I don't give a damn! I love Harry and Hermione *squee!* _


End file.
